


some like beautiful, perfect and pretty

by thorvaenn



Series: i like it heavy [5]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Butt Plugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Underage, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Prostitution, Relationship Negotiation, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sugar Daddy, consent conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorvaenn/pseuds/thorvaenn
Summary: “Honey, you're home,” he drawls as he meets Thor in the hallway and Thor laughs, dropping his briefcase on the floor and shrugging out of his coat.Thor's sugar baby lives with him now.





	some like beautiful, perfect and pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I've literally been writing this for over a year. It is what it is - more plot and angst and talking than smut. I guess I should warn for Loki's age which gets discussed for the first time here.

Loki doesn't like his new room.

 

Or, to be more precise, he doesn't like that it is _his_.

 

While his nights are spent in Thor's sprawling king sized bed, with the two of them plastered together after a bout of great sex or sleepy cuddling, he still has a  room in Thor's house. A room separate from the master bedroom.

 

It's small-ish – houses like these don't really do small – and a bit on the plain side, just a bed with nightstands, a huge window, and a walk in closet where Loki has put some of his winter clothes and stashed some of the embarrassingly meager possessions he had in his previous place. He hasn't slept there once, despite the brand new, luxurious deep blue sheets, but he still doesn't like that Thor pronounced it _his_ room.

 

Running his tongue over the edge of his teeth, Loki leans against the door frame and surveys the quiet, empty room.

 

It might be prettier and more expensively furnished than the entirety of his old apartment was, but it still says something unpleasant.

 

He shakes his thoughts off when he hears the front door closing with a bang, a jolt of excitement running through him despite his maudlin thoughts.

 

“Honey, you're home,” he drawls as he meets Thor in the hallway and Thor laughs, dropping his briefcase on the floor and shrugging out of his coat.

 

“Finally,” Thor says. “What a fucking week.”

 

Loki glides closer, putting his hands on Thor's chest, so warm now that the spring weather is showing but Thor still wears his winter coats.

 

“You're here now. With me.”

 

“Mhmm,” Thor nods, dragging his lips over Loki's forehead. “Did you have a nice day?”

 

Did he? He didn't do much.

 

“A very lazy one,” he says, as that's truthful enough.

 

Thor pulls him closer, pressing their mouths together, which turns into a deep filthy kiss. “Does that mean I should make you work hard now?” he murmurs when they part. Loki grins, Thor's hot breath gusting over his smile.

 

“Wasn't that the plan all along?”

 

“You know me too well.“

 

Thor actually lifts him then, hands supporting the backs of Loki's thighs as Loki hurriedly wraps his legs around Thor's waist, inwardly swooning a little at the display of strength. They don't go far, only to the living room where Thor sits down, keeping Loki on his lap with a firm hand, demanding a slow, deep kiss. It leaves Loki more than a little hard and entirely shameless as he starts to slowly rock against Thor, his bare thighs rubbing over the wool of Thor's dress pants.

 

Thor snaps the band of his panties against Loki's ass in warning and Loki wrinkles his nose at him briefly before reaching to undo Thor's tie. He takes his time, sliding it slowly from around Thor's neck. He's about to discard it when Thor catches his wrist and takes the tie from him, pushing Loki's arms behind his behind and tying his wrists together.

 

“Ooh.” Loki smirks. The silk tightens, coiled surprisingly securely.

 

Thor unzips his pants and takes his cock, sighing in apparent relief as he strokes it. Loki leans in to kiss him, wanting all that attention on himself and he gets it, Thor looking at him with a heated gaze, letting himself go to yank Loki even closer.

 

“Is there lube?” he murmurs.

 

“Somewhere on the couch,” Loki says, pointing towards the fluffed up pillows vaguely with his chin. He's sure there was a bottle stuck somewhere.

 

There is, as it turns out, but it takes Thor with his lapful of Loki a little while to find it and at the end of it they are both panting in annoyance a little, wanting Thor inside. Now.

 

As a result, Thor is less patient with fingering Loki than he usually is and Loki sinks down onto his length barely stifling a pained gasp. It doesn't help that his hands aren't free so he can't steady himself, and the hard, heady look Thor gives him when Loki is sitting flush against him would discourage it anyway.

 

It doesn't matter; it's still so, so good. Thor holds him still with two arms wrapped around his torso, hips pistoning up as he fucks into him and Loki just sags forward, giving into it.

 

* * *

 

Life hasn't been this good in… well, ever. And it must be true, because the thought occurs to him on a Monday morning as his alarm clock goes off. Who is happy while getting up for work on a Monday? Thor, that's who, because first he gets to cuddle. He wraps himself around Loki's sleep-warm body. And he gets to come home tonight to this too. Good company and good sex.

 

It was a crazy idea to ask Loki to move in. He'd been high on sex and so giddy that it just came out. Sometimes it's still unreal. He got himself a sugar baby, fine, lots of people do. But to move him in, to actually live as a couple?

 

That was something else, but weirdly enough, it was working out.

 

“Good mo-” Loki tries to says, voice all scratchy. He clears his throat, then huffs. “Morning.”

 

“Alright?”

 

“Mrrmm.”

 

Thor should maybe feel guilty about messing up Loki's throat that way, but the blowjob last night was just too great to feel bad. And Loki was clearly having a lot of fun too.

 

After some more leisurely groping, he finally gets up, leaving Loki to sleep in, as he always does, but once he's had his coffee and is dressed, he comes back, bearing a package, waking Loki up with a nuzzling kiss to his shoulder.

 

“Baby?”

 

“Mmrrm?”

 

“I've got a task for you.”

 

A bleary look over the shoulder. But he's definitely waking up now.

 

“Wear this plug for me?” Thor holds up the box he's brought. They are still easily making their way through Loki's somewhat… sizable purchase of toys. “Until I come home?”

 

He's been thinking about it the whole weekend, remembering how frustrated he was on Friday when he just couldn't get Loki slicked and open up soon enough. He's also pretty sure he was hurting him, at the start at least, so this could prove to be a good solution.

 

Loki nods, reaching out to grab the box. And promptly falling asleep with it in his hand.

 

Thor chuckles, pressing a fond kiss to Loki's cheek before leaving.

 

* * *

 

Loki drags himself out of bed later than usual, which is _very late_. His throat is sore from deepthroating Thor last night, but the ache is not going away as quickly as he'd like and he frowns.

 

He gets some breakfast and rummages through Thor's cupboards for tea that's not some weird fancy shit that will just make his tongue feel funny. Only afterwards does he actually remember what Thor said when he was leaving in the morning and he snorts out loud.

 

He's only got a few hours before Thor gets home, so he figures he should get to it, retrieving the box from under the bed where it's fallen and heading to the bathroom.

 

Putting it in is weird. He's worn plugs. He's had a lot of things up his ass. He actually fully expects to get turned on because he's doing this on Thor's command, and he _loves_ what they do. He wants to think about his big, teddy bear of a daddy and jack off knowing that Thor will be beside himself when he pulls the plug out, leaving Loki all loosened up and dripping with lube. Instead he winces when the plug finally slips in, after way more time and effort – and sweat – than he would like. It kinda hurts to walk and he grabs a fluffy bathrobe, which is not sexy but definitely is warm and heads down to watch TV.

 

Curled on his side, twenty pillows propping him up and two blankets tugged underneath his chin, he actually feels a bit better, except he's fighting off a headache as he binge watches some wonderfully mind-numbing show.

 

He never gets hungry enough to think about getting himself something to eat.

 

Sometime at the end of the fourth episode of his show, his phone pings with a notification and despite his discomfort, he smiles, grabbing it. Thor is good at cheering him up, even through a text. He looks at the screen, eager. What he sees doesn't make sense at first.

 

There is a text, yes, but not from a contact he has saved – and yet the phone number is weirdly familiar.

 

He's already reading the message when it all clicks into place.

 

It's from his fucking _father_.

 

Loki hasn't seen his father in almost a year, not ever since he moved out in the dead of the night and changed his number. He doesn't have a chance to think about it sensibly and delete the text. Instead, he reads the message over and over.

 

And boy, does the old man have something to say.

 

_i thank the lord every day that your mother isnt here to see what you did_

_youre a shame_

_burning in hell will be youre only absolution_

_whore_

 

He's heard worse. He's heard _so much worse_ from this sorry excuse of a father, he's had it screamed right into his face. He's had it spat on him in vicious whisper after a particularly hard blow sent him tumbling to the floor.

 

But _this_. After he's finally gone from there, safe in this haven that is Thor's house -

 

The tiny word seems to float on the glaring screen. _Whore_.

 

How does he even know what Loki is doing? How did he get his number? It's a brand new one, connected only to his former, short-lived barista identity.

 

He jerks when his eyes overflow with tears, startled by the feeling. It's a bad idea; the plug throbs painfully. He wants it out but he can't _take_ it out.

 

With trembling fingers, he turns his phone off and slowly slides back onto the pillows. He just hopes Thor won't call but he's usually too busy at work, not making it a habit to sext unless he's traveling. Loki just needs to pull himself together before he comes home, that's all.

 

Time seems to crawl and speed ahead at the same time. His physical discomfort is mounting but there's nowhere long enough for him to actually calm down.

 

But thankfully he's not crying anymore when the door clicks and even though his head hurts like hell, at least he's no longer all covered in snot. Nothing he can do about the miserable nasal wheezing that masquerades as his breathing though.

 

“Hey,” he tries when Thor walks into the living room, grinning, already undoing the top button of his shirt.

 

Thor's grin promptly disappears when he takes a good look at Loki, and Loki's heart sinks.

 

He's not sure why he thought wiping his face with a tissue would do anything to fix the fact that he's still all gross and sweaty and wrapped up in an ugly couch nest.

 

None of it is sexy. Not even remotely. He can read that plainly written on Thor's face.

 

He doesn't expect the gut-wrenching misery he feels. The feeling of failure. That what his father says is all true and what's worse, Loki can't even be _good_ at it.

 

“Baby, what's wrong?”

 

A million dollar question. What the fuck is _wrong_ with him?

 

Thor is sitting down on the couch, smoothing Loki's hair back, the frown on his face looking more worried than angry.

 

“Are you sick?”

 

Loki has yet to say anything and then Thor presses his palm against Loki's forehead and for a second he feels like retching, the care in the gesture too much to bear.

 

“You have a fever,” Thor declares and slowly, _very slowly_ things start to make sense in Loki's mind. Whatever shit there is going on, it's not like him to just give up. He's just feeling this bad because he's actually _sick_.

 

The realization kind of blows his mind.

 

“Jesus, Loki, are you with me? Baby, say something, please.”

 

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I'm good.”

 

His sore throat isn't from the blowjob and his headache isn't just from crying; he got a _cold_.

 

How he missed that is a bit beyond him, but maybe being ambushed by hell-preaching text messages from the only shitty parent you've ever known does that to you.

 

“Did you eat something? Had a paracetamol?”

 

Loki shakes his head, forcing himself to look up at Thor. He doesn't seem annoyed. For now.

 

“It's nothing,” he insists, trying to sit up and press himself against Thor. Except he's forgotten about the damn plug and he winces as it chafes.

 

“Come on, you're-” Thor frowns at him when Loki manages to throw one leg over Thor's thighs. He doesn't think his wince went unnoticed as Thor gently but insistently pushes him onto his back on the couch, peeling the blankets and his bathrobe away from him.

 

“Fucking...” Thor murmurs and wow, okay, _now_ he's pissed. Great. When Loki only did as he asked.

 

“Try and relax, okay? Please?”

 

Loki closes his eyes. It hurts like hell as Thor slowly starts pulling on the base to get it out. Loki squirms against the burn, knowing it will only get worse, unable to do as Thor asked and relax. It's several frustrating minutes before the plugs finally pops out of him, and in the end, Loki is tearing up again and Thor looks positively stormy.

 

Tossing the plug god knows where, Thor bundles Loki up and turns to go. Loki bites his tongue not to call out after him. Thor doesn't even leave the room though. He just walks to the kitchen half of the open floor space and puts the kettle on. He does plenty of other things too, bustling and setting things up, but mollified, tired and just fucking _done_ with everything Loki just burrows into the couch and waits for whatever is to come while dozing.

 

Tea – overly sweet with honey – soup and crackers with chopped vegetables slowly appear on the coffee table next to Loki's couch.

 

Watching Thor assemble it all for him, he starts sobbing. Again.

 

“Shh.” Thor's embrace is larger than life, warm and cozy and perfectly tight. Not suffocating but enough to ground him.

 

It takes Loki a long while to calm down. Too long. He doesn't think he would take well to this himself, to rock someone gently back and forth, nuzzling their sweaty, tear-streaked cheek but Thor does it like it's nothing.

 

When his sobs trail into miserable little sniffles, Thor hands him a tissue.

 

“Eat the soup, please?”

 

Loki does, mechanically at first and then with a little bit more vigor when it starts to warm him up and wakes up his stomach. Besides, it's fucking delicious.

 

“Tell me how you made this?” he croaks, lifting the bowl up and glancing only very briefly up into Thor's blue eyes. They both know he doesn't really care about the recipe. About any recipes at all, in fact.

 

“You like it?”

 

“It's the best I ever had.”

 

“Well, it's real chicken broth. Frozen, but not from a can, so that makes all the difference. Some fresh veggies, good noodles, a little bit of spice...”

 

It's something good and easy to listen to. Thor loves cooking, Loki has known that from day one, so in a way it shouldn't be a surprise that he turns the chicken soup remedy into a culinary experience, but just like apparently every-fucking-thing today it sets off something in him.

 

A huge bowl of soup eaten, along with some crackers, followed up by two paracetamols washed down by the honeyed tea and he's almost resembling a human again. Almost.

 

Still, it's terribly unfair of Thor to take advantage of his weakened state by trying to have a talk.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Thor asks, prefacing the question with a sigh that Loki would call 'put-upon' if he could imagine Thor doing something like that.

 

He just shrugs. Thor waits. Another sigh, barely more than a louder exhale, but it's there.

 

“Why did you put the plug in when you were feeling sick?”

 

That's easy.

 

“I wasn't feeling sick when I did it,” he shoots back.

 

“Then why keep it? Loki, I-”

 

“You told me to have it when you came home.”

 

He's saying it even though he knows it's the wrong thing to say. But he can't help it. Can't help but taste it, provoke it. His separate little room, ready for him to be sent off to when Thor doesn't feel like dealing with him. The texts from his father. And this, the humiliating knowledge of how gross he must look, all cried out and under the onslaught of a nasty cold.

 

The absolutely stricken look on Thor's face makes his head pound even worse.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Thor murmurs, putting his head in his hands. “Loki... I'm so sorry.”

 

“What for?” Loki rebukes instantly. He's starting to lose the thread of where his anger is coming from.

 

“You know what for. I'm sorry you thought you couldn't just… not do it.”

 

“I'm not your boyfriend,” Loki spits and Thor's shoulders drop. He's a sight, sitting on the couch in his expensive shirt, holding Loki's hand, playing the nursemaid. It's both infuriating and endearing, only Loki doesn't have many _dear_ thoughts in him right now.

 

“I know, I know… I'm sorry.”

 

Loki's anger deflates like a pricked balloon. It is what it is. The thing he has with Thor is awesome, really. Life doesn't get any easier than this, living in a gorgeous house, doing nothing all day long and fucking one of the hottest men he's ever seen in his life.

 

No need to be such a wuss about it. And to risk losing it.

 

“I'm just not feeling great,” he offers weakly and Thor looks up, nodding immediately.

 

“Yeah, I'm sorry,” – he says that a lot – “let's just get you to bed. We can talk later.”

 

 _Or never_ , Loki hopes.

 

* * *

 

He doesn't have nightmares, exactly, but weirdly realistic dreams haunt him the entire night and so when the morning finally comes, he doesn't at first realize that the voice he hears is actually Thor, right next to him in bed, speaking on the phone.

 

Later on, he might be able to place it – Thor is the boss, and he's being all _bossy_ and unyielding: yes, I was meant to come in, but I _won't_. Do your fucking best without me. But right now he just shivers and instinctively turns his back to Thor, hoping to become invisible.

 

“Baby?”

 

His mind spins and spins until he remembers and reality comes a little closer. Right. Nothing much is happening. He just has a bitching cold and a fever.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“We should take you to the doctor.”

 

Loki actually takes his time to respond, taking a bearing of how he feels. Sick and tired and overrun with snot – nothing out of the ordinary.

 

“I have a cold,” he says. “They don't give you anything for that.”

 

The silence is long and heavy.

 

“Okay, but if you feel worse, I will take you right away, yeah?”

 

He just nods into his pillow. He hears Thor moving around the room, then going downstairs and coming back up. He's instinctively listening to the sound of Thor's footsteps even as he dozes on and off.

 

Next time he blinks his eyes open he sees Thor placing Loki's phone on the nightstand and plugging it in.

 

He sees Thor frown as it lights up and his eyes flick towards Loki, finding him awake. “Your phone is off. I thought the battery died.”

 

“I turned it off.”

 

Thor crouches next to the bed, pressing a palm to Loki's forehead. “Something the matter?”

 

Apart from all this, obviously. The unpleasant tension between them.

 

The sickness makes Loki feel slow. He can't muster up any energy to deflect the question or make something up.

 

“My father found my number.”

 

“Found.” Unlike Loki, Thor is not being slow at all. He latches onto the word, something flashing in his eyes. “Can I see?”

 

The reasonable response is _no._ So why Loki is reaching for the phone with a slightly weak, sweaty hand and putting in the passcode is a bit beyond him. He stares at the screen blearily and taps on the message app, then flops back into the pillows, closing his eyes.

 

He hears Thor breathe in sharply and then there is nothing for a long while. God, what is wrong with him? Why did he show Thor _that_? There is only so much a cold and sleepiness can excuse.

 

“You know, I could have a restraining order for you against him within two days.”

 

Loki opens his eyes, startled by the hard, matter-of-fact tone, a nervous laugh bubbling from his throat as he looks at Thor who is holding his phone still, reading the screen.

 

“But he's not... it's just texting.”

 

Thor shakes his head. “ROs aren't just for physical contact. Cyberstalking is a thing.”

 

“He's just a bible thumping nutter, Thor... leave it.”

 

The look Thor gives him makes him squirm. There is something calculating about it that makes Loki feel naked. Exposed. Like Thor is seeing right into him. _Thinking_ about him, and not in the ways Loki likes either.

 

When Thor looks at him, he's supposed to see candy. He's supposed to think about bending him over. He's supposed to think about the expensive gifts he might buy for him.

 

Not this. Not this look like Loki is a problem that needs to be solved.

 

“That time we didn't see each other for a couple of months... did something happen?”

 

What is it with this guy? Do they really need to get into it? But he's almost pouting and Loki stares at his lips to avoid the sharp blue gaze that is forcing the truth out of him.

 

“I finally managed to move out. I got a job, you know, a real one... but it wasn't for me, not really.”

 

“You mentioned moving out,” Thor murmurs. “I thought you had shitty roommates, not that you still lived with... Jesus, Loki, how old are you?”

 

Even under the fever, he flushes, hard. Thor pinches the bridge of his nose when Loki mumbles simply “legal”.

 

The fact that he _wasn't_ when they met is not something that he feels the need to point out.

 

“So, you're what? Eighteen? Are you seriously only eighteen?”

 

“We can't all be old men like you are,” Loki tries to joke, but it falls flat. Even so, Thor reaches out to stroke his cheek.

 

“Okay, we're gonna need to talk about even _more_ things when you're feeling better.”

 

Loki doesn't think he manages to catch himself early enough not to show the fear on his face.

 

“Not like that,” Thor whispers, leaning it to press a lingering kiss to Loki's burning cheek. He's all scratchy but he smells good. Feels good. “I don't want... I want you here. So as long as you want to be here too...”

 

Impulsively, Loki throws his arms around Thor and tries to pull him on top of himself. He doesn't manage it; he couldn't push Thor around even at his best, but Thor chuckles and goes anyway, settling above him with his weight carefully kept off Loki, propped on his elbows. Loki wishes he wouldn't. He wants to be pressed down. He wants to feel Thor.

 

“I heard you talking before. You're not going to work today?”

 

Thor gives him a quick peck on the lips. “No. I might take tomorrow off too. I don't want to leave you alone.”

 

“You should do that sometime when I'm actually fun to be around,” Loki grumbles, still ineffectually pulling at Thor's shoulders to get him closer.

 

“You know, you're right. We should go on a vacation together. What's your dream place to visit?”

 

Oh, but even all sick and feeling gross and shaken by their conversation, Loki isn't above milking that. He runs the options through his mind.

 

“Iceland,” he says. Thor opens his mouth to reply but Loki isn't done. “France. New Zealand. Argentina. Bali.”

 

Thor laughs, a full, deep laugh that Loki can basically feel vibrating on top of him. “Alright, point taken. We should look at some options. Take time off more often.”

 

“It will be good for you,” Loki states, closing his eyes. “I'm gonna nap now.”

 

* * *

 

Thor wakes him around noon for more soup. Loki eats it propped up on a mountain of pillows as Thor paces by the window, taking a work call. He occasionally pauses and winks at Loki when the other person is speaking.

 

He looks good. He has one of his fitted t-shirts on, showing off his arms, and a simple pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips. When he takes a deep breath, the shirt rides up, showing a peek of stomach. The call seems to go on forever.

 

Way more lucid and feeling awake, Loki tries to make sense of the previous day and of the morning.

 

His ass is still a little sore from the plug. But what's way worse than that is the memory of Thor's horrified face. Thor has no reason to feel bad about that. Are there things that Loki would like to change some when it comes to the two of them? Yeah. But not that.

 

He clambers out of the bed, stopping Thor with hands on his hips in the middle of the room. Thor stares down at him and this up close, Loki can hear the quick, business-like speech of the person Thor is talking to.

 

Slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, taking Thor's sweatpants with him.

 

A sharp intake of breath that Thor covers with a discreet cough and then his free hand is in Loki's hair, trying to pull him away from his crotch. Or is he? Loki smirks up at him. Thor is usually very good at getting what he wants and if he really wanted to snip Loki's idea completely at the bud, he would have.

 

Stuffy nose and lingering fever don't make for the best blowjob companions, no, but Loki is perfectly happy to nuzzle into Thor's warm skin, to feel his cock harden as he Loki rubs his cheek against the silky length. The grip Thor has on his hair grows laxer and laxer and any time he speaks, it's in short, clipped tones. Grinning, Loki parts his lips and lets the head of Thor's cock slip in. He's gentle and teasing, giving nothing but a little tongue right at the most sensitive parts, toying with the foreskin, the tip darting into the slit.

 

“Actually, I would prefer if-” Thor says, a little overly loud into the phone, but is promptly cut off, giving a hum of understanding that clearly isn't understanding at all.

 

Oh, trying to postpone the call, are we? Not on Loki's watch. He adjusts his grip, tightly fisting the root of Thor's cock and starting up a rhythm, following with his mouth. Thor's size is something that no longer shocks him, but it doesn't mean he's totally used to it. His mouth is stuffed full even though he only has the head in, the rest of Thor's length is being taken care of by his hands.

 

He looks up, finding Thor staring at him. He's flushed. The person on the phone drones on.

 

“Mhmm. Well, but the analyst-”

 

Loki slurps around him, loudly. Thor's eyes go wide as the person in the phone stops talking and he reaches out, grabbing the back of Loki's neck, squeezing in warning.

 

So far, Loki's cock has been soft. Now, despite the cold and everything, he's getting hard.

 

“Yes?” Thor prompts into the phone, cold and a little impatient. The voice picks up again and Loki goes back to what he was doing, taking care not to be too loud again.

 

Thor is hard and straining in his mouth. His hand has never left the back of Loki's neck and he's not even pretending to try and push him off anymore, instead, he starts to rock forward, so lightly and rhythmically that Loki suspects it's an unconscious motion.

 

Loki opens his mouth as wide as he can and presses forward, the smooth length sliding against his tongue until he's near gagging. If Thor wasn't on the phone, he would keep going, but like this, trying to keep quiet, he pulls back. And goes in again. Thor is close, he can tell and he shivers in anticipation, excited heat pooling in his belly.

 

“Okay, good. Good.” If he could, Loki would laugh at Thor's increasingly desperate attempts to end the all. Instead of having an air of finality, he just seems breathy.

 

“You too, yes. Bye. _Bye_.”

 

The phone bounces of the phone when Thor throws it and he cups Loki's face with both hands, fucking into his mouth. “Loki, fucking god, you little...”

 

Loki squeezes around the base and looks up at Thor unwaveringly even though he almost can't breathe. Thor's lips are bitten red and his eyes have a bit of wild look in them and then he throws his head back, groaning loudly as though every single moan he's had to hold back comes out at once. Come hits the back of Loki's throat and he wraps his lips more firmly around the heated, wet skin of Thor's cock and rides it out, swallowing, feeling the scratchy pain of his sore throat mingling with the abuse of the blowjob.

 

He pulls back, wiping his mouth, watching Thor as he breathes deeply, eyes closed. When he tries to get to his feet, dizziness hits him like a train and then Thor is there, picking him up and putting him in bed and crawling in with him.

 

“Fun phone call?” He's on his back and Thor is tucking him in, then propping himself on his side to look at him.

 

“It was fun,” Thor admits, voice a little flat. His eyes are searching. “But you're sick... baby, this is exactly what I wanted to talk about. You have to...”

 

Loki watches as the crease between Thor's eyebrows disappears when he stops fumbling for words and instead looks at Loki with firm decision in his eyes.

 

“You have to be able to tell me no. And I have to know that you can.”

 

“I do. I would,” Loki shrugs. He's searching his memory, trying to come up with an example, except there really isn't one. He's never refused Thor, but simply because there never was a time when he didn't _want_ it. Before he can find some way to voice that, Thor goes on.

 

“I know you don't want this to be a relationship. But we live together. And no one... no one _works_ all the time. I'm sorry, I don't mean-”

 

“Wait wait wait.”

 

Loki's ears are ringing and he's not sure if it's from the cold or if he just heard correctly.

 

“ _I_ don't want a relationship with _you_?” he repeats. His face his heating up, anger mingling with fever and it's making his eyes water. But he needs to get this out. He can't start crying. “I moved in with you and you gave me a _room_ like I'm- some sort of a-”

 

“I gave you a room so that you could have a space to call your own,” Thor says carefully, watching him like he's a taxing mathematical problem.

 

Loki sags back against his pillow, any semblance of energy rapidly leaving him.

 

“I don't know if I understand what you mean by all this,” he tells Thor, feeling his voice waver. “Why were you so mad yesterday? What is it that you actually want from me?”

 

“I wasn't mad at you, honey, I was mad at myself. You know, this is why I started seeing you in the first place, because I was constantly scaring people away with my kinks, and then here you were, sick and crying, but still doing the shit I told you to do when I was horny!”

 

He knew that. Loki knew that Thor was still feeling guilty about the things he wanted.

 

Sighing, Loki reaches out to palm Thor's bearded cheek. “I really was feeling okay when I started wearing the plug. And then I was just confused and distracted. I wasn't sitting here torturing myself, Thor, thinking that if I disobeyed you you would kick me to the curb.”

 

Something like relief, only more visceral shatters Thor's face and he drops forward, his head resting against Loki's stomach.

 

“Really?” Loki asks, staring at Thor's messy, blond head. “That's what you _actually_ thought?”

 

A bashful shrug, and Thor is still hiding his face.

 

“Do _you_ want a relationship with me?” Loki asks, slowly, when Thor doesn't let up. He kind of wishes he hadn't dropped the bomb that was his age yesterday. Thor is bound to put one and one together eventually. But he can't help but ask this, because look at them. _Everything_ has been perfect for them ever since Loki moved in – and even before that – apart from these moment when they are each talking as though they're having an entirely different conversation.

 

Thor looks up, pulling back a little to rest on his forearms. His eyes are dry, thank god.

 

“We've been... what? Making dinner together. Talking. Having sex and snuggling and sleeping together,” Thor says softly. “I would really love it if we kept doing all that, except I wouldn't constantly fear that it was all just for show. So if you liked all of that too...”

 

 _Liked_ it? On some level, Loki knows that this isn't how the rest of his life will look like. Things will have to change eventually. But after everything he's been through in his family, in his life, this has been a _haven_ of pleasure and safety. And Thor was a part of it – no, he was the _cause_ of it.

 

“I'll still support you. We can make some arrangements. A contract even. A fund, I don't know. Whatever you want. I-”

 

“Shut up,” Loki whispers. Thor does, blue eyes wide and fixed at Loki face, waiting for the verdict.

 

It's not a verdict, and this shouldn't be some grand moment, but maybe they're too new at this to do it in a less stressful manner. Loki pulls Thor to him, or at least tries because it's not like he can actually _move_ him and Thor scrambles to do whatever Loki is ineffectually trying to make him do. But at the end of it, Thor is there and Loki presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

 

The softness soon disappears, turning into something way more passionate, until Loki quite literally can't breathe and pulls off, urgently blowing his nose. When he's done, Thor watches him with an easy smile, eyes soft.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Loki grumbles. “I want this. So get off now, because I'm gross.”

 

Thor's face splits into a grin, the biggest Loki has ever seen him wear. He's gorgeous; _glowing_.

 

“Would you like a nice bubble bath then?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I think this is it for these for these boys - I'm drowned in feelings and sappy happy endings and I don't want to dissect their situation. Let's say they mature together, as does their relationship and everything is good. I always appreciate your comments and thoughts, but please don't ask for continuation. Thank you.


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